


Apex

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Come Inflation, Dubious Consent, Gangbang, Jealous Jack, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 13:58:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: Following a planet-side mission gone wrong, Rhys is put in quarantine alongside the rest of the infected soldiers to work out the...effectsof their sudden affliction.Jack is forced to watch all these strangers have their way with his omega, barely able to contain his jealousy and anger.





	Apex

**Author's Note:**

> In light of Tumblr's....changes...I'm taking requests for really filthy smut and well, someone requested dirty omegaverse so I provided. Enjoy and leave a comment if you liked it!

Jack shouldn’t be able to even _feel_ jealous.

He’s the king of Hyperion, richer than anyone in the galaxy, a man with unimaginable power clenched tightly in his fist. There’s nothing he can’t have if he wants it. 

And yet here he is, standing on one side of the glass wall separating the observation deck from the exam room, his arms crossed tight around his chest and his fist clenched as he resists barreling through the door and breaking up the—

—the well—

—screw it. The _orgy_ that’s going on before his very eyes. 

Most of the men in the room are soldiers, members of Jack’s personal army that had been sent down to investigate one of the old Atlas biomes for anything salvageable. For their trouble, they’d gotten doused with the pollen of one of the many weird plants—the _Pandoran Spitting Tansy_ , as Jack knows it from the scant mission reports that he had received—and been reduced to what could only be described as a feral state. 

The soldiers are a mix of alphas and betas, quarantined for their own safety and the protection of the rest of Helios until the pollen works its way through their systems. Jack’s analysts have already picked apart the blood samples of a few of the soldier’s, isolating the samples and determining the lifespan of the active ingredients in the pollen. These— _effects_ —should resolve themselves within a couple of hours. 

However, that doesn’t make it much easier to watch for Jack, considering the soldiers weren’t the only ones impacted by the plant. 

A thready cry cuts through the glass, sound muffled but nonetheless prickling on the back of Jack’s neck. He scowls, watching as one of the bulky soldiers manhandles a tall but slight little omega onto the provided couch, sinking inside his ass with one long, hard thrust. 

Rhys had been the one to lead the expedition, eager to poke around the Atlas biome and add more information to the database of his ECHOeye. According to the mission notes, Rhys had been the closest to the flower when it had discharged the pollen, receiving the heaviest blast right to the nose. And it _shows_ , because Rhys has been taking cock after cock for the past hour without any sign of fatigue or pain. 

And _sure_ , Jack might enjoy the look on Rhys’ face and the sounds he’s making—there’s no one else in the observation deck but him, as he’d insisted on keeping an eye on things _alone_ —he _hates_ the fact that he’s not the one in there pounding into his omega’s tight little ass. That _he’s_ not making Rhys moan and writhe against the sweat-damp couch. That he’s not the one feeling that quivering hole, or that tight little mouth, or those warm palms against his cock. That these soldiers, these _nobodies_ , get to enjoy his omega in the way only Jack could before. 

As Rhys rocks forward with the power of the alpha behind him’s thrusts, two betas that were making out nearby decide to split apart, one of them toddling over to Rhys’ open mouth. He crouches on the couch cushion, grasping Rhys by the hair and urging his lips over the head of his cock. Rhys goes willingly, and his face disappears from Jack’s view for a moment, obstructed by the beta’s hip, as he starts bobbing up and down along his cock. 

Rhys’ spine bends towards the bed as the alpha behind him presses a scarred hand onto his back, shoving into him even harder. Jack winces in sympathy but Rhys doesn’t seem to mind, continuing to suck the cock of the beta.

It’s maddening to watch but also hypnotic, Jack has to admit. If he disassociates enough he can almost pretend he’s watching a particular crowded porno, but then Rhys has to let out a noise he usually makes when he’s pinned beneath Jack and rip away the fantasy. The CEO scowls, hunching his shoulders. _How much longer will they be like this?_

The beta finishes first, pulling out and leaving a long string of come that Rhys chases. Strands drip down his chin, and when the beta finally moves away to chase down his former make-out partner, Jack can finally get a proper look at his boyfriend.

_God_. Rhys looks so frikkin’ _dirty_. Even from a distance Jack can tell his eyes are hazy, mouth slack and splattered with come. His usual perfect hair sits in disarray atop his head, making him look younger and cuter and a hell of a lot more _vulnerable_ than he normally does. It tugs at Jack’s heart— _and_ his dick. 

Jack grips at his arms, trying to resist the urge to palm himself through his pants. Not that he has much shame when it comes to his sexual appetites, but it feels— _weird_ to jack it to the sight of his boyfriend’s defiling. Maybe if Jack had ordered it, sure, but this is thanks to a freak accident. Rhys isn’t even in his right _mind_! He would never screw any of these meathead assholes if he were sober. 

When the scarred alpha finally comes inside of Rhys, he pulls the omega back to sit on his knot, showing off how wide it stretches his hole like he _knows_ Jack is watching. Rhys’ hole is already pulled so wide, pink from the pressure and blood rushing to his most sensitive bits. The omega whines, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he’s held in the alpha’s lap, come pulsing inside of him and filling out his slim stomach. 

A muscular female alpha takes the spot vacated by the beta, blonde hair dipping around her face as she sucks hickeys into Rhys’ chest. Strong fingers dig into his rounded hips as she gets to his nipples, pushing him easily into overstimulated territory. Jack’s eyes widen as Rhys tilts his head back, wordlessly moaning as she leaves his chest bitten and slick with spit before continuing the rest of the way down his body. She licks over the slight swell in his belly before getting to his cock, mouth easily taking the entire shaft inside.

Rhys’ toes curl and he squeaks, held in place both by the scarred man and the woman as she sucks his cock. Jack doesn’t know if Rhys orgasmed when the alpha knotted him but he does now, his eyelids fluttering and eyes rolling as he jerks his groin up against her mouth and comes down her throat. 

The pollen reduces refractory periods, so it’s not long before the alpha’s knot starts to soften inside of Rhys. The big soldier leaves him leaking and limp to go and break up the kissing betas, allowing the woman to take over and lie Rhys on his side against the couch. This time she faces Jack, not obscuring the alpha from watching as his omega gets plowed once again.

Rhys grips the couch cushion so tightly Jack thinks it might tear, body overly sensitive both thanks to the pollen and screwing so soon after coming. His pale skin is flushed pink like he’s spent the last five minutes in a sauna, and for a minute Jack worries it might be too much for Rhys’ body to handle, but the sensors attached to his life systems still beep steady on the observation deck.

The woman comes less than the scarred alpha but Jack can still see the way her release fills up Rhys’ belly, rounding it out further with the evidence of her presence. Her knot doesn’t last, though, and as soon as she finishes with Rhys an alpha and beta pair descend upon him and force him against the back of the couch before working both of their cocks inside one after the other. 

Rhys scrabbles helplessly against the back of the couch, his legs shaking and barely holding him up as the pair pound inside of him in tandem. Jack’s fist tighten, shaking with a plethora of barely contained emotions—frustration, rage, _hunger_ —as two cocks pound into his mate. Another beta ambles over to the back of the couch to take Rhys’ mouth, and as his shaft slides between the omega’s slack lips Rhys’ own cock spasms weakly against the stained fabric of the cushion, his body limp between the three as they all fuck into him with uneven pace. 

It doesn’t take long for exhaustion to start to pick off some of the soldiers, especially those with weaker bodies or lesser stamina. As the pollen wears out they give into their own limitations, passing out on the floor or occasionally atop each other, mid-bang. Jack breathes a sigh of relief, arms starting to unclench, when the scarred alpha from before returns to sit besides Rhys, who has just started lazily sucking off a reclining, half-asleep beta. Others amble around, as if indecisive, caught between continuing to screw and giving in to rest. 

Jack figures he can hold out just a little longer—at least until the scarred alpha’s teeth get a _little_ too close for Rhys’ neck for his liking. Then he snaps, slamming his fist against the control panel and opening up the door into the quarantine. 

“All right, bozos, off! Get off of him!” Jack roars as he stalks into the room, waving his gun around for good measure. He can almost smell the aggressive scent radiating off of him, warding off the other alphas and betas even with the thick stench of sex solidifying in the air, pushing them away from _his_ Rhys. Most take the hint and back off, the exhaustion finally hitting the remainder as the pollen’s effects start to properly wear off. But the scarred alpha doesn’t seem to get the frikkin’ _hint_ until Jack waltzes on over to him and snaps the barrel of his gun across his temple.

“That means _you_ , knothead,” he snarls, hand shooting to grasp the alpha by his meaty throat before he could challenge Jack with a growl. His fingers press inwards, seeking the fleshiest, weakest parts around the windpipe, until the alpha releases Rhys’ hips with a tight gasp and falls away from Jack’s hand, limp and bleeding over the arm of the couch. 

Rhys whimpers at the sudden loss of the cock inside of him as Jack _shoves_ it out—an impressive feat, even with the alpha’s knot dying down—and tosses Rhys onto his back.

“ _Uh_ …” Rhys makes weak, animal noises as Jack straddles him, eyes still clouded with lust. His body shakes, fragile, unable to take what he wanted any longer. Thankfully, Jack knew exactly what he needed. 

“Greedy little slut, aren’t you?” Jack growls, lifting a hand to trail down Rhys’ chest as the other keeps him pinned by the wrist. Not that Rhys is a flight risk, but Jack feels good holding him down. Re-establishing his control, his _right_ to the omega. 

“Taking so many knots like that…just couldn’t get enough, huh? Even now—“ Jack presses his hand lightly over Rhys’ stomach, feeling where it rounds out slightly, “—you’re still needy, aren’t you? Still need the one cock that matters above all others?”

He applies pressure gradually, jealousy finally ebbing as he looks down between their bodies to see the traitorous come of the others leak out from between Rhys’ abused cheeks. The omega moans softly at the loss of fullness, but Jack quiets him with a brief but deep kiss. 

“Aw, don’t cry sugar,” he coos when he pulls back, licking his lips, “I’ll give you something better in just a moment.”

Jack should probably move, get Rhys back to his penthouse, maybe wash the other, filthier scents off of him, but he’s so hot and horny right now that he _needs_ to be inside Rhys. He almost feels like he’s heading into a rut with the sudden spring of sweat on his forehead and the pulsing in his groin as he unzips his pants and pulls out his cock. He gives it a couple testing strokes, watching come pearl at the tip, before grabbing Rhys’ hips and shoving his dick inside. 

Even as strung out and weak as he is Rhys still keens when Jack drives all the way inside of him, his fingers fluttering in useless clenching movements as the alpha starts to pump his hips. Rhys feels loose and wet around his cock but tightens up just right when Jack drives into his sensitive gland—knowing exactly where it is, unlike the clumsy creeps who’d been screwing him before. Rhys tosses his head to the side, completely lost in pleasure even though _surely_ the pollen must nearly be out of his system by now, unless it affects omegas more strongly—

Jack arches over Rhys and presses his lips frantically to the omega’s lips, claiming them with little bites until they’re worried even redder than they were. He lets his hips do most of the work, humping against Rhys’ ass as he digs his now free hand into the omega’s hair, wrenching it back to bare his creamy neck—right where the other alpha had almost bitten him. 

Jack sinks his teeth into Rhys’ flesh when he can no longer contain himself. The smell of blood cuts through the fog settling over his brain, and he’s probably missed Rhys’ bonding gland but it’s fine, his hips snap forward and then he’s coming, flooding the omega’s insides with come and swelling his now flaccid belly out as they knot together, Jack’s cock swelling to fit perfectly inside Rhys’ stretched hole. 

Jack wipes his mouth as he lifts his head, catching his breath. Rhys’ blood tastes tangy on his tongue. 

He looks down at the omega to find Rhys watching him from under heavy lids, red-rimmed eyes just barely visibly and glistening with emotion. His fingers twitch and Jack instinctively moves their hands to lace together, feeling his lover’s calming heartbeat in his palm. He raises the knuckles to his lips in a kiss, leaving a small print of blood on the skin.

“You’re mine…” Jack mumbles, the sound half-lost into Rhys’ hand and his own clumsy lips. But Rhys seems to understand because he smiles, trusting, and lets his eyes fall shut the rest of the way and his body finally slacken in proper sleep.

Jack keeps him close, holding his hand and stroking his hair, until the point where his knot shrinks back to its normal size. Then, he wraps Rhys up in his jacket and exits the quarantine, sealing the door shut behind him and leaving his researchers to deal with the mess. 

Jack has more important things to tend to. 


End file.
